


Not Regulation

by orphan_account



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We were trading around drabble prompts on tumblr, and SOMEONE told me to write Eiffel/Cutter + forceful kiss.</p>
<p>Set during Episode 14, The Kumbaya Approach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Regulation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [straydog733](https://archiveofourown.org/users/straydog733/gifts).



Mr. Cutter recognized the voice instantly. The half-joking, half-frantic tones of one Douglas Eiffel interrupting Commander Minkowski with a flurried, “Ah-ah-ah, Commander, hang on a second.” It was lucky that their little chat didn’t include visuals, because the expression of horror mingled with disgust on Mr. Cutter’s face was certainly not regulation.

Also, because Doug might have recognized him.

Mr. Cutter was reasonably certain that Doug wouldn’t remember him. The last time they met was years ago, back at some house party when they were both in college. Doug had a week’s worth of stubble, a drink in each hand and pupils wide enough to suggest that alcohol was not the only thing he’d been indulging in. He also had an ass that could have started wars. 

Mr. Cutter had been wearing a polo shirt with an orange blazer tied around his shoulders, his blond hair hanging in a perfect bowl around his head. He’d been watching Doug chat his way around the room, alternating between sipping the amber and purple drinks in each of his hands. Doug’s lips were very distracting, and Mr. Cutter was having difficulty focusing on the busty Young Libertarian who kept finding excuses to touch his shoulder. Eventually, he gave up on trying to find her interesting, and approached Doug. 

“Hey Doug!” he said, the absolute epitome of cool. Mr Cutter still cringed remembering it. “It’s quite a party!”

Doug had given him a once-over and smiled back at him. “Wanna drink? I have scotch and -” he wrinkled his nose and looked contemplatively at the glass in his left hand, “not scotch.”

Mr Cutter had reached over and taken the scotch, letting his fingers brush against Doug’s wrist. “You’re certainly in a sharing mood.”

“Is a good night! Everyone should be happy.” Doug downed the purple liquid and put down the cup. “You happy?”

Mr. Cutter followed suit. Whatever the amber liquid had been, it  _wasn’t_ scotch. and he grimaced at the taste. “I could be happier. It’s a bit noisy here, don’t you think? We should find somewhere nice and quiet.”

Doug’s grin had widened, and he’d leaned into Mr. Cutter. His hands were on the back of Mr. Cutter’s head and shoulders, and his tongue was suddenly and wonderfully inside Mr. Cutter’s mouth.

Mr. Cutter forced himself out of his reverie and uttered a silent prayer that that Communications Officer Eiffel did not remember that night. Gathering together what composure and dignity he could manage, he answered the incoming transmission. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to get in on the sending prompts business, please do! My tumblr name is the same as my username here.


End file.
